


Love you that way

by irene_yongie



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, give them back to me i miss them, writer!taeyong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:54:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irene_yongie/pseuds/irene_yongie
Summary: Taeyong, writer, in love with his best-friend, Ten.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 14
Kudos: 137





	Love you that way

A sigh finally broke through Taeyong’s lips closed in a thin line. It could have broken the spell created around him by the frantic inspiration of the writer he was if there had been any inspiration in the first place. Exhausted, he stretched out, rubbed his hands on his face, massaged his temples. For three entire days, he had been trying to write this bloody scene. Time had crept when he stared at the empty document for hours and it had flown ridiculously fast when he scrolled down on Pinterest to “find a new vibe, getting the aesthetic right, you know?”, he had said over text to his Ten, his best friend. His research on his phone led him to wonder what was the amount of blood his character could lose before passing out (and dying) tainting his search history forever.

Then, when he actually wrote, it turned out to be utter garbage. Every single sentence was shallow and out of rhythm, every word sounded awkward, meaningless. Taeyong strove to write, he really did, seeking for fifteen minutes in the thesaurus for the exact perfect word every two sentences. He drafted the same scene one time, two times, three times, getting more and more frustrated with every sheet of paper he took to scribble down. Where he had begun confident and enthusiastic, he found himself surrounded by all his insecurities, waves of self-doubts threatening to submerge him and swallow him whole. Taeyong was well aware he was a sensitive person, he often used his intense emotions to color his stories. Unfortunately, it also made him prone to anxiety and melancholy. He knew he shouldn’t pressure himself so much, shouldn’t dwell on his perfectionism, yet it was stronger than him. He had cried out of frustration five times. Or maybe it was six, or four, he was honestly too tired to keep count. He had tried to calm down and had tensed himself to try again, pacifying the waves, emptying his mind, he had believed he would do it. But in the end, he realized he had to get out before the tsunami came back.

Out of his apartment, back in reality, he felt lost. Out of place he tried to accustom himself to the world again, wandering in the busy streets, allowing himself to sense instead of think. The cold rain hitting his cheeks, the regular beating of a walk, the rustle of clothes, the warm and rich scent of a bakery, the taste of a pastry he eventually bought, tempted. He tried to stop himself from getting back to his story, but the characters were too vivid in his memory and they were walking in the city by his sides. They were the passersby arguing across the streets, the couple kissing under a street light or the friends gushing about this brand new coat in a vitrine. Even though his story was old, planned months ago and each of its intertwined plots and twists known by heart, his dear characters always felt new. Taeyong, sat on a bench under a bus stop – having decided he should pay an unexpected visit to Ten – caught a chat between two strangers and smiled to himself. The amused bicker he overheard fitted in the scene he had been working on just right.

  
He was welcomed by being tackled to the ground by a hug.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming!” Ten scolded gently after pulling off and getting him in his apartment. “I would have ordered something to eat!”

“Nah, I’m going to cook something for us,” he answered as he got to the kitchen. Ten was about to say something but Taeyong ignored him, opening the fridge. “I know you spend all of your money eating unhealthy junk food and you seriously need to go home-cooked… Oh. That is an empty fridge.”  
Taeyong shot him a disapproving look to which Ten responded by a playful grin, his phone already in his hand. “So I was thinking Italian? Or burgers it is?”

“Get us Italian please, I’ve been eating ramen for a week, I need something substantial.” Taeyong closed the fridge and followed Ten in the living-room.

“And you say I don’t know how to feed myself? You look like a stray cat, dear,” Ten sighed.

“Just feed me please,” Taeyong whined falling on the couch at Ten’s side, maybe crashing onto him a little.

“Mushroom risotto extra, extra Parmesan as usual?”

“You just know me so well.”

“So, how is the writing going?” Ten straightened his posture and readjusted Taeyong so this one would be leaning his back on his side.

“Terrible, actually. That’s why I left my apartment, I was suffocating in there.”

“Ugh, writers.” Ten simply rolled his eyes and started to play with Taeyong’s hair. Taeyong could guess his best friend knew too damn well what it meant when he withdrew in writing that much only to think is work didn’t worth two shits.

They settled comfortably on the couch, falling onto each other with every minute passing by. Ten asked Taeyong more specifically about the problematic scene and after listening to him ranting for thirty minutes and getting the food he suggested some advice. He was really helpful, he always was, and cleared Taeyong’s messy mind with a few well-thought words. Taeyong loved him for that. Taeyong loved him for a lot of reasons.

He loved him for his funny and witty comebacks, for his impressive determination coupled with his intelligence, for his silly jokes, for his warm arms always open for him, for his pretty smile, for his artistic and beautiful soul and he even loved him for his terrible cooking skills, because it meant

Taeyong could take care of him.

It wasn’t just friendship. It had been for a while, when they had first met in college, in other words: when Ten had tried to befriend Taeyong but this one was too intimidated to realize it. Taeyong only admired him and wished to be a good friend to him. They had supported each other during harsh times, had laughed together, had gone to parties and got absolutely blasted together, had cried together, had made fun of each other countless times. Taeyong had cried on Ten’s shoulder at his father funeral’s, Ten had broken down in Taeyong’s arms when he felt he’d never be good enough – Taeyong had learned later it was the first Ten had ever let himself fall in tears in front of someone.

Taeyong still wished he could be a good friend to Ten, tried his best to be one, but his feelings had shifted. He had realized it during a moment similar to the one he was living right now. It had been when he was re-reading his first novel before publishing it, finding all of it shitty as fuck. After a sleepless night, he had crawled to Ten’s apartment, a bag of bakeries in the hand to make it up for coming the early. Ten had opened the door, meeting Taeyong with a sleepy face, his eyes puffy behind his crooked glasses and his hair sticking up in all directions. He had looked so soft Taeyong had found himself grinning. “Oh my god I fucking hate you,” he had grumbled before not before bothering to suppress a yawn, but still getting Taeyong inside, stroking the writer’s arm a bit. It had hit him. Oh. _Oh_. The way he had felt like he was melting on the inside was all but friendly.

From this point Taeyong had been caught in a vicious, had found himself enthralled at Ten’s every gesture, had surprised himself looking at him with heart eyes, falling more and more in love with him with each smile. Ten had become not only the most important person in his life – this wasn’t new – but he also entered Taeyong’s imagination, and more than once the writer thought about him when creating a new character, and more than once this said character was a love interest. Omnipresent in his mind, Ten seemed to never leave him, always playing with him.

Taeyong loved Ten, and that wasn’t breaking news. Unfortunately, he was a helpless coward and would never admit his feelings to anyone but himself. Too afraid to lose his best friend he had pushed down his feelings and sometimes butterflies would distract him from the ache in his lungs. No, living without Ten, hurting him, destroying what they had built over the years, only the thought of it was unbearable, and maybe, maybe, he had already cried at 3 AM imagining what could happen if he confessed.

No, instead, he’d write stories about his love.

After finishing eating they put on a movie, settling back to approximately their original position, Ten simply sat, feet laid on the coffee table, Taeyong’s head resting on his laps. Taeyong would like to say they were watching some intellectual movie, something deep about politics or contemporary issues, but no, they were laughing their asses off on Shrek. Casually Ten’s hand found his way back to Taeyong’s head and soon enough he was fondling it, playing with his hair again. He used his other hand to sip on his wine – Taeyong already had a few glasses and his cheeks were already pink. On his side, Taeyong was trying not to cry out of happiness but savored every stroke he got.

“You know, I often use you to create characters or just… to make my stories.” It slipped. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the cuddles, maybe Taeyong just needed to spill his heart, nonetheless, it slipped. He regretted as soon as he opened his mouth. He’d bury his head in his hands if it wasn’t already on Ten’s lap. It seemed like his heart had stopped beating but he knew it wasn’t the case for the sole reason that he could feel his face heating up and reddening.

“Oh really?” Ten sounded genuinely surprised, he had stopped stroking Taeyong’s head. “Which characters?”

How could Taeyong say to Ten he had inspired the evil yet hot mastermind, or the charming insufferable lawyer, or even the bad-ass spy who started as an enemy, then became a rival, to eventually befriend the hero and ended up falling in love with him? It was a lovely relationship now that he was thinking about it, he had loved working on it. But it wasn’t the time to wander in his own as Ten’s stare reminded him. Taeyong couldn’t bring himself to look at him, he answered nonetheless.

“Huh, I don’t remember, it’s just vibes or energy you give off, you know?”

Ten smiled softly. “Liar,” he hummed. “Tell me, Yongie, please.”

Taeyong almost cooed at the nickname but his inner panic stopped him. He was trying to figure out ways to get out of this tricky situation and escape the logical question that was coming after him if he revealed the characters were all somehow the love interests. But he got nothing. Funny as a writer how his mind could be so dry. Shutting up would have been one of the smartest calls but Ten eyes twinkled with curiosity. “Well, I mean, so there’s, uh, Adam, the lawyer, remember?”

“Oh yeah, that’s an obvious one.” Taeyong’s eyes widened a second before he understood it was because Ten was also a lawyer. “Another one?”

Taeyong raised himself to sat properly and, unfortunately, meeting Ten’s gaze properly. He held it during like, 2 seconds top, before blushing and looking down. It made Ten laugh, “Oh come on, spit out! I promise I won’t get mad, even if you tell me I inspired this drug dealer.”  
“That’s not true you hate him you’d probably spit on him before hitting him with a chair if you’d meet him.”  
“I mean… yes, but I’d wouldn’t be mad at you if you tell me he was about me, just disappointed maybe.”  
“Ugh shut up you know it’s worse.” Taeyong rubbed the back of his neck, knowing his face was crimson. “Anyway, the drug dealer wasn’t made after you, you can chill.”

“So is it the disco boy? Jack?”

“No, it’s not the disco boy either.”

“The devil?”

Oh yeah, the devil was a bit about Ten. Shit.

“Uh…” If only he hadn’t drunk so much wine, he could have handled this conversation much better, or even wouldn’t have started it in the first place. Stupid wine.

“Oooh, the devil’s about me! That’s a win!” All of Ten’s attention was focused on him, looking at him bite his lips after biting his nails but he didn’t seem to notice. “Another one?”

“There’s a few more…” Taeyong looked at Ten, his face lighted by an excited smile, looked at his hands, considering spilling all the characters just to end this conversation, looked at the Donkey who was flirting with the Dragon on the TV, no, he could never do that, looked at Ten again, his eyes soft and loving. With his lungs pounding with apprehension he recounted the fastest he could in one breath, “So there’s the awesome spy James, warrior Skala, the mage Ismael, the villain Callum, the devil, and Lisa, yeah she’s a bit made after you.”

Taeyong took a big inhale and even if his hands were sweaty, his head spinning, his heart racing and his stomach twisted by the fear he could not watch away from Ten’s face, waiting for him to connect the dots. Taeyong would like to slap himself, already planning whatever excuse justifying he did not saw his best-friend in any romantic light, that he did not imagine their first kiss countless of times, that he did not picture them as a family, that he never thought about spending Christmas with only him, that he never dreamed of him and that he did not ever make a love playlist about him. Except he did all of those things and that Ten's face was slowly going from amusement to something different, an expression Taeyong couldn’t interpret at all.

He should leave, go back to his place, hide in his most comfortable blanket for a week and then reappear like nothing ever happened, keep his friendship intact.

“Did I really inspired all of them?” Even Ten’s tone was undecipherable.

“Yes.” His voice was only a murmur, he couldn’t even hear it, covered by his heart tumbling in his chest.

“But, Yongie, they’re all…”

“The love interest?”

“Yes.”

Taeyong could not believe this nerve-wracking, life-changing conversation was happening while Shrek was playing on the background.

“What does this mean?”

Their faces were close, too close. Taeyong wanted to kiss these lips but he also wanted to break down in tears. Ten had understood. But, considering it, now that he was screwed, why hold back?

“I’m in love with you.”

Despite the movie, the room felt silent. More than ever Taeyong wanted to disappear. He’d say he was ready to take in the answer, the harrowing rejection he was expecting, but he was too damn conscious he wasn’t, and would never be. Instead of the relief, he could have expected of a confession he was feeling like he had been pushed right in the guts, several times.

“You’re in love with me?” The bewilderment on Ten’s face struck him like another punch.

“Yes. Yes, I am. I’ve been. For like three years you’ve been the first thought that wakes me up and the last one I fall asleep to. I love everything about you, your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your drawings, your sarcasm, your stupid manners.” Now that he had begun Taeyong couldn’t seem to stop. Years of denied feelings drowned his words. “Fuck it, I love you so much it hurts sometimes! You’ve been the only thing that kept me going and the only one that matters to me. I wanna wake up by your sides every morning, I wanna have silly fights with you about how’s turn is it to do the laundry, I wanna cook for you every day and take care of you. All I wish is to spend the rest of my life with your ass and to make you happy. I’m sorry you became more than just my best friend and that I ruined our friendship but I swear I’d do anything to keep you in my life and–”

He was interrupted by Ten’s lips crashing on his own. Immediately he melted on the touch, getting every bit he could. Ten was overpowering, captivating Taeyong’s every sense and sense. Intoxicated, he moved along, following Ten’s hectic rhythm before realizing Ten was kissing him. Ten’s lips, on his. Taeyong deepened the kiss, making it eager and passionate where it had been overwhelming and confusing. Ten had moved over him, his hand holding on Taeyong’s waist, their legs entangled while Taeyong gripped on the back of his neck. Oh, he could never get enough of it.

They parted away, their hot breath hitting the other’s skin. They rose on the couch, Taeyong had been lying down under Ten. His head dizzy, the lips swollen, he admired the new light in Ten’s eyes.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to hear that. And wanted to do that.” Ten confessed the voice hoarse.

Taeyong eyes were looking in his face any trace of malice but could find none. “Really?” He didn’t mean too sound desperate but he did.

“I’ve been wooing you for years! Why do you think I’m watching Shrek with you on a Saturday night?” Ten laughed, it echoed in Taeyong’s chest, he laughed too bubbly, sparkly. They found themselves gazing at each other, smiling like fools.

“I never thought you’d return my feelings.” Taeyong only whispered.

“For fuck’s sake Yongie I have a picture of us on my desk at work, how more married can we get?”

“I don’t know, I thought it was a friendly thing, that you don’t like me that way.”

“Dumbass, of course, I love you that way.”

Ten pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, and his cheek, and on the other, and peppered a hundred all over him.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! yes i turned a really important assignement into a fanfic. sue me.
> 
> thank you very much for reading this, i hope you liked it! don't hesitate to leave kudos or a comment it means a lot to me <3
> 
> you can yell at me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/kitty_track) and on curiouscat [there](https://curiouscat.me/kitty_track)!


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